Self Reflections
by skipperxotter
Summary: Series of Kopaka drabbles. Rated T for subject matter.
1. Resentment

**I do not own bionicles**

**A series of drabbles on Kopaka**

"Thank you, Toa Kopaka. Thank you for saving my life…"

The words fade away, the familiar phrases becoming jumbled and twisted. Mismatched eyes watch the Le-Matoran's mouth move, uncomprehending. He stares, waiting till the Matoran is silent before giving his usual nod of acknowledgment and leaving.

_All lies, all lies. They thank me for no reason. They do not understand that this is a job, a duty, nothing more. _

The ground of Le-Koro is unpleasantly soft, squishy. The raw earth clings to his feet, it'll take hours to get it all off. Despite the blinding white of his armor, the Toa of Ice is a shadow, unseen, unnoticed. Kopaka sighs, looking up at the sheer cliff that leads to his home. It will be another hour before he reaches it, and another hour yet before he can finally stand on ice again.

_Curse this warmth. _

He feels like he is melting, like his soul is leaking from the frozen shell that protects it. In Ko-Koro everything is clean, pristine, perfect. But down in Lewa's jungle the world is a riot of color, texture, noise.

_I hate it. _

The depth and richness of Lewa's world is nothing but lies. Lies that try to convince the unsuspecting that their lives truly matter. His life doesn't matter anymore than the lives of the Matoran. Just tools, just pieces in the grand game of chess that Mata Nui and Makuta are playing.

x.X.o.X.x

Home, Kopaka's home is nothing more than a simple, sparse room, furnished by a bed and a table. The table displays three items, a sharpening stone, a cleaning cloth, and a container of polish.

Gali often complains that he needs more personal affects, more trinkets and knick-knacks.

_Pointless. _

He is tired from the mission, he must sleep. Later he has to attend a meeting with his siblings.

x.X.o.X.x

Tahu and Gali are yelling. Again. Arguing over some obscure point that has no meaning. Their words are like daggers, stabbing into his temples, making his head ache. Kopaka says nothing, this topic does not include him, he has no right to say anything.

_This is pointless. This is pointless. THIS IS POINTLESS._

"THIS IS POINTLESS!"

Silence, the eyes of his siblings watching him curiously.

For some reason, he is standing up, chair pushed away, his fist resting in a large dent marring the steel surface of table. The rapid beats of his heart pound in his ears, so loud he swears that his siblings can hear.

_Did I just say that…?_

And…he runs.

The halls are a blur, as his feet barely touch the ground before taking off again. A few unlucky Ga-Matoran are run over in his haste to return to his icy citadel.

_It's too hot here. Too much life._

The air seems heavy, suffocating. The sheer amount of living, _feeling,_ creatures is crushing him. Kopaka can feel their emotions, their cares, and he can't handle it. He runs and runs and runs, runs until he is in his room, safe.

The floor rises to meet him, cool, unfeeling, comforting. A soft mewl escapes him, the only sound that has escaped his lips since he started running. Here, in the nearly lifeless expanse of his home, he feels relief from the ungodly _pressure _of living things.

This is his haven.


	2. Hiding

**I do not own Bionicles**

**Another drabble about Kopaka, I like to imagine him being a very negative person.**

xXxXxXx

It's a matter of life and death, crystalline and sharp, cold as pure as the white domain that he calls home.

He's sparring with his brother, the great leader of the Toa, Tahu.

Kopaka doesn't want to spar with him, not one bit. Battles with Tahu are too messy, filled with passion and impatience and flames. A blistering jet of fire smashes into a hastily summoned ice wall, melting it and filling the air with steam. He uses the fog as a cover, slipping away from his wildly cursing brother and retreating into the many ice caverns that litter his land.

He isn't ashamed to run from battle, especially since this particular battle cannot be won. The stink of ash and soot follows him as he slips deeper into the cave tunnels, which is troublesome since Tahu is a very capable tracker.

_Must you prove better than me in every way?_

The bitter, acrid scent of burnt matter snaps him out of his thoughts, he has to get clean.

xXxXxXx

The flames are visible from his secluded room, one of many that he has made, flickering bright and hot as the sun. Tahu must be extremely angry, for Kopaka to be able to see the inferno from the glacial peak. It won't be long before he's found, perhaps a couple of hours if the weather holds clear.

_I don't need help. _

It's rather spiteful, a small part of him whispers, to cause his sibling so much trouble when Tahu is just trying to help.

_I don't need _his_ help. _

Bitterness and resentment make him stand up and walk out of his room to the flat training grounds outside, frost flowers sprouting from his steps. Fire may melt ice, but even the mightiest of flames will wither in the face of a blizzard.

xXxXxXx

The storm starts abruptly, snow falling first, pushed by gentle winds. The Ko-Matoran are confused, there was no snow in the days forecast, and quickly hurry back to their homes unwilling to chance being caught outside in bad weather.

It's the right decision.

The gentle winds quickly work themselves into a howling tempest, turning snow into icy razor-edged sand. Icicles rain down like javelins, splintering against frozen stone and ancient glaciers, barely visible in the sub-zero symphony.

"So this is how you feel Kopaka..." Tahu sighs, armor scratched by the icy winds. He's considers himself lucky for finding a small cave to hide in until the storm ends. Ichor, black-red and oily dull, drips from a large cut, a light kiss from one of the many icicles outside. Resigned, the Toa of Fire waits for the blizzard to end so he can return to Ta-Koro. He needs to have a long talk with Turaga Vakama about this.


	3. Thoughts

**I do not own Bionicles. **

**Been a while since I did one of these. Here is to hoping that I still have it. **

**XxXxXxX**

Gali came to speak with him.

He was civil, as expected, but as distant as he could manage.

A vague stirring of regret fills him, as he watches her leave, shoulders slumped in unhappiness.

Kopaka dares not get to close to his sweet sister. She is lively, bright, gentle as spring rain. _Loving. _Every part the living embodiment of water. Everything that he is not.

He fears that he will destroy her, should he get too close. Chill her heart, turn her from the life-bearing guardian that she is into a frozen queen. It's all too easy to imagine, the creeping cold turning her heart to ice, till she becomes a perfect, pale reflection of himself.

_Would it be so bad?_

No, it wouldn't.

He could protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her from rushing head long into near-lethal situations as she is so wont to do.

He snarls viciously at himself for even entertaining such a thought.

How _dare_ he even entertain the thought of protecting her. Tahu is stronger than him, and even the Toa of Fire bows his head to Gali's power. Of all the Toa, Kopaka is the weakest, and he knows it. Winning for him depends strongly on being on his native turf, without the chilling cold of the mountains his power is near useless. Even then he can be defeated, as Tahu so pointed demonstrated to him.

The crackling snap of ice wakes the Toa from his musing. His fist has splintered the hard ice of his room walls, dark ichor dribbling from split armor.

_Why isn't it ice?_

It's an irrational thought, bubbling to the front of his mind. He's been said to have a heart of ice, so why isn't his blood ice as well? Instead, it is the same black-red substance that all his siblings have, warm to the touch. Warm and rapidly freezing in the sub-zero temperatures of his room.

Kopaka stares at the fluid, morbidly fascinated by the way it drips down his fingers, as thick drop barely dangling from a single white fingertip. His red eye tracks the droplet as it falls and splatters against the icy floor, freezing into a sunburst.

_Disgusting._

The sudden revulsion is shocking in its intensity, snapping him out of his entranced daze. His foot lashes out, scraping the splatter from existence, leaving nothing but scuffed ice and snow on the floor. In the corner of his eye he notices another blooming iris of red-black, freezing against the white purity of his room. It occurs to Toa that he should bandage his hand, so as to not keep dirtying his residence with any signs of physical weakness.

A glance at his hand, the cracked armor and all, causes a wave of stomach-churning loathing to flood his veins.

A sharp crack sounds for a brief moment, before dying away.

It's only a while later that Kopaka realizes that his fingers are bent at an odd angle, the slow dripping of ichor now a steady stream. The previous dent in his wall is now a small crater, bits of white armor embedded in the center. A thin waterfall of red, still freezing in place, flows down from the connecting point of his fist and the wall.

With an almost curious expression the Toa of Ice pulls his hand away from the wall, ignoring the sick cracking sounds of breaking ice crystals, and wonders why it doesn't hurt.


End file.
